


Shadow Hound

by Serenade



Series: Fic Amnesty Works [1]
Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon
Genre: Dark Kingdom, Early Work, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, On Hiatus, Pre-Canon, Rivalry, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 1999-01-28
Updated: 1999-01-28
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:49:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenade/pseuds/Serenade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The obligatory 'Kunz meets Zoey' fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oaths

**Author's Note:**

> 3 May 2016: This is an early work that I'm posting to AO3 for the first time. It is incomplete. I would like to finish it someday, but I'm not currently working on it.

The summons was waiting for him when he arrived back from his latest mission. He was tired and hungry and irritable, and what he really wanted to do was lock himself in his quarters for a week and catch up on lost sleep. But the Queen had sent him her summons, and above all else Kunzite was loyal to his queen. So he merely crumpled the message in his fist and conjured a dimensional gate to transport him to the Hall of Audience. 

As he materialised in the cavernous Hall, he noted that his fellow generals, Nephrite and Jadeite, were already there. 

And so was the stranger. 

"Kunzite," Queen Beryl was saying, "There's someone I want you to meet." 

The newcomer was a delicate-looking young man, slender of build and fine-featured. A wavy brush of honey-coloured hair swept down his back. With his large emerald eyes and his slim white hands, he seemed almost doll-like. _Your new toy soldier, Beryl?_ Kunzite thought, with an irrational flash of resentment. 

"This is Zoisite," Beryl said. "I have just appointed him to the rank of general. He will be given his own duties, as well as sharing in the leadership of my armies." 

Kunzite kept his face carefully neutral, but inwardly he felt rising disbelief. What did Beryl mean by making this upstart puppy a general? Was he a favourite she was promoting? Surely she wouldn't risk the success of the campaign on a whim. 

The other generals likewise did not seem overwhelmed by this latest addition to their ranks. With Beryl's attention focused elsewhere, Jadeite mouthed something to Nephrite, who responded with a small, cold smile. 

_So we are agreed on something, at least. Let Beryl place this 'general' in our midst then. He won't last a week._

"I trust you will make every effort to integrate Zoisite into your operations." 

Kunzite nodded. "As you command, my queen." He smiled benignly at Zoisite, who only managed an uneasy expression before breaking off eye contact. At least he seemed canny enough to sense the hostility rising like an invisible mist. 

Queen Beryl seemed to sense it too. "Perhaps I haven't made myself clear, Kunzite. I am placing you in charge of Zoisite's initiation and training. You will be personally responsible for his development and his... well-being." 

Kunzite tried to dampen the annoyance that surged up within him. "My queen, I regret that my involvement in the coordination of this campaign leaves me little time for extra activities." He slid his gaze sideways to the other generals, who were doing their best to fade into the background. "Perhaps someone else..." 

Queen Beryl barely glanced at them, before fixing her eyes on Kunzite again. "I am not asking you to be a babysitter. I expect Zoisite to receive much of his instruction by observing your activities and working methods. He may even be able to assist you in your tasks." 

Oh, wonderful. The kid was going to be following him around all day. 

Then Beryl delivered the final blow. "If you still can't handle all your other duties, then you will delegate some of them to Nephrite." Who would be only too glad of a chance to upstage his senior. "This particular matter is very important to me. I would hate to be disappointed." 

"I understand, my queen." There was no getting out of it. He was stuck handholding the baby general, when he should be out there doing his job unfettered by distractions. And worse, if anything happened to Beryl's new darling, she'd take the price out of Kunzite's hide. 

Beryl smiled down at her vassals, old and new. "You have your orders, then. Dismissed." 

The four men bowed as one, and then retreated in formation to the antechamber. Once the door was closed behind them, Kunzite allowed himself a muttered curse. Damn Beryl and her fool notions. No, damn this pretty-faced youma who thought he could be a general. He cast a baleful glare at Zoisite, whose tentative smile drained away. 

Jadeite was the first to speak. "Welcome to the fold." He offered a grin and a handshake, which Zoisite received with a cautious nod. _He's probably pleased that he's not the most junior anymore,_ Kunzite thought sourly. 

After the introductions were completed, Jadeite excused himself, claiming pressing duties to attend. Nephrite lingered a moment longer, doing his best to look sincere. "Kunzite, does your new... responsibility... mean you won't have time to continue developing your Shadow Hounds? I'd be happy to take over if you can't work on them anymore." 

Kunzite suppressed a scowl. The Shadow Hounds were his pet project, his current pride and joy. They were a breed of youma meant to track down sources of the life-force energy which the Dark Kingdom desperately needed. He'd created them several months ago, and had been working on them ever since. There was no way he was going to let anybody else touch them. Or steal the credit. "I'll manage, Nephrite. You take care of your tasks, I'll take care of mine." 

"Of course. I didn't mean to imply you couldn't. Just remember my offer if you find things getting out of hand." Nephrite glanced at Zoisite, smiled mockingly, and vanished through a dimensional gate. 

Nephrite claimed to have no designs on the leadership of their group, but it was becoming more difficult to believe him when he kept casting doubt on Kunzite's abilities. Another problem to consider, Kunzite reflected. But later. 

He turned to Zoisite, who had been watching the exchange curiously. Now, left alone, they eyed each other warily. 

"You don't like me much, do you?" Zoisite said. 

Kunzite arched an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?" 

"It is when we're meant to be working together. We can't possibly achieve the goals the Queen has set us if we're at odds with each other." 

_He's acting like he's already my equal,_ Kunzite thought irritably. "I carry out my duties," he said, "whether or not I enjoy them. And I will expect no less from you. Don't expect me to do you any favours because you happen to be Beryl's star of the month." 

Zoisite flushed, but retorted, "Don't misjudge me on my appearance. I wouldn't have been promoted to this rank if I couldn't do the job." 

"We'll see soon enough, won't we? And if it's any consolation, you don't have to like me either. As long as you obey my instructions, that is." 

"Of course, Lord Kunzite," and he could hear a tinge of sarcasm slipping through. "What are your instructions then?" 

Kunzite quashed the first suggestion that sprang to mind. "Wait here for me. There's something I need to check on before we begin." Nephrite's words had reminded him that he ought to look up his project's progress. 

"You're not trying to ditch me, are you?" 

Kunzite smiled pleasantly. "Of course not." But with luck, he could avoid his charge for a few hours at least. With that thought in mind, he tore open a dimensional gate and vanished through it. 

Seconds later, Zoisite materialised beside him in a swirl of cherry blossom petals. Kunzite's second thought was, _Damn, he actually traced me here._ The first thought had been, _Cherry blossoms?_

Zoisite was looking insufferably smug. "Good. You wouldn't want the Queen to think you were shirking your duties, after all." His eyes widened at the sight of the pale forms of the Shadow Hounds, loping gracefully around the gloom-shot kennels, looking every inch the wraithlike hunters they were. 

"Are these your secret weapons? They're beautiful." He reached out a hand to stroke the nearest one. Unfortunately, the creature merely slid away, instead of tearing his arm off. "Can I help you train them?" 

And Kunzite wondered how he was going to survive the week.


	2. Swords

Zoisite wondered if he was going to survive the week. 

In the three days since Queen Beryl had assigned him to Kunzite \- or the other way around - he had been trailing the senior general like a shadow as he made his rounds of the Dark Kingdom. They had drilled the troops, inspected the defences, and made other preparations for war. And in all that time, Kunzite had never ceased to act like he'd rather be somewhere else. He'd rebuffed all attempts at conversation, only speaking to give curt orders or explanations. 

Which was a shame. Kunzite was an intriguing character, and Zoisite wanted to get to know him better. But Beryl's first general seemed to have no time for camaraderie or friendship. As far as he could tell, Kunzite was totally devoted to his job. And to his queen. Idly, Zoisite wondered if the scandalous rumours about Kunzite and Beryl were true. 

For some reason, he didn't like the idea. 

He passed beneath the archway into the training grounds. Kunzite was already there, his lean form pacing back and forth. Zoisite couldn't help but admire the striking image he cast. Handsome as sin, and twice as arrogant, with a face like a marble angel and a heart of stone to match. He wore his dark uniform with style, as though it had been fitted to every line of his body. Well, he was the first of the generals; it probably had been. 

"You took your time getting here." Kunzite raked his eyes over Zoisite. "It shouldn't take you that long to get dressed." 

Zoisite flushed. "I'm sorry, Lord Kunzite." He was aware that he had spent extra minutes brushing his hair this morning. He'd been taking greater care with his appearance lately, in order to... to do what? Impress Kunzite? Kunzite didn't look too impressed. 

"Don't let it happen again. Have you been practising your swordsmanship as I instructed?" 

"Yes, I have." He didn't want a repeat of last time, when 'I want to see how good you are with a blade' Kunzite had demolished him without much effort. 

"Well, let's see if you've improved at all." He gathered up the two crystal blades leaning against the wall and passed one to Zoisite. Then they stood facing each other, weapons ready. "Defend yourself!" 

And that was all Zoisite had the chance to do, as the other man launched his attack. Kunzite was like a whirlwind, his blade moving so rapidly that Zoisite could barely parry in time. _I'm sure glad he's on our side. I wouldn't want to have to face him in battle._

Aware of Kunzite's superiority, Zoisite had set out to learn a few tricks of his own. In addition to combing the fencing texts, he'd managed to persuade Jadeite, the most approachable of the generals, to show him a couple of new moves. 

A feint here, a little manoeuvring there, and suddenly Kunzite's blade was in a bind, pinned to one side by Zoisite's own. As Kunzite attempted to slide his blade free, Zoisite grinned in satisfaction. "Better than you thought I'd be?" 

Kunzite regarded him placidly. "Not bad. But not quite good enough. Who do you think taught Jadeite that trick?" And he twisted his blade so that Zoisite's weapon was torn loose from his grip, landing in the dust several feet away. Zoisite fell back as Kunzite lunged towards him, knocking him down. He ended up flat on the ground, with Kunzite kneeling on top of him, the edge of his blade pressed against Zoisite's throat. 

Zoisite lay gasping for breath, trying to absorb what had happened. Kunzite was also breathing heavily, but he was actually smiling, a rare genuine smile. His face was alight with pleasure, and it made him seem younger. He looked like some warrior god out of myth, with the sheen of battle on his skin. Zoisite found himself smiling back, his heart beginning to pound in an unexpected way. 

The moment held for a brief, wordless space. Then a disquieted expression flitted across Kunzite's face, too rapid to be properly deciphered. He moved the blade aside and abruptly stood. "I think that's enough practice for today." The smile was gone, replaced by the dispassionate mask. 

Zoisite could only nod as he gathered himself up. For some reason he didn't trust himself to speak. That one instant - that moment of rapport - but Kunzite was already walking away, and Zoisite had no idea what he wanted to say anyway. 

Except - well, except - 

_I want to see you smile again, Kunzite._


	3. Webs

"So what's this 'special exercise' all about?" Zoisite asked, for what must have been the third time. He kicked impatiently at the leaves which lay scattered across the trail they were following. 

"Oh, you'll see," said Kunzite. He was enjoying the look of frustration on the other man's face. "I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise." 

"I'll bet," muttered Zoisite. "Why are we walking, anyway? It'd be faster to teleport there." 

"That would be true under normal conditions. But past experience has shown that dimensional gates are dangerously unstable in this area. It's better not to risk them." 

"There's something wrong with this place, then?" Zoisite cast his gaze around the forest apprehensively. 

"Don't be afraid," Kunzite said sardonically. "You're safe with me." 

"I feel better already." 

Kunzite almost smiled at that, but restrained himself. He couldn't afford to let himself get too comfortable around Zoisite. 

It should have been irritating, having the man constantly hanging over his shoulder. But oddly enough, he was getting used to Zoisite's volatile presence. And Zoisite refused to be ignored: attacking him with questions, challenging his answers, avidly involving himself in the processes of Kunzite's life. He hadn't realised how solitary his days usually were. 

And then there was the sparring session of the previous week. It had been unsettling, and he didn't want to think about why. 

He needed to spend some time alone. Perhaps work on his special projects. He had, to his shame, been neglecting his Shadow Hounds. He should see to them, before Nephrite could say 'I told you so.' 

He increased his pace, forcing Zoisite to hurry to keep up. Before long, they both emerged into a grassy clearing, wet with morning mist. The trees were hung with long twists of vines bearing tiny scarlet blossoms. 

Kunzite looked about in satisfaction. "This is it." 

Zoisite stopped just behind him. "We're having today's practice here?" He dumped to the ground the blades Kunzite had made him carry. 

" _We're_ not. _You_ are." 

Kunzite conjured up a glowing ball of energy, and hurled it into the nearest cluster of vines. The vines suddenly exploded into a mass of writhing tendrils, twisting in the air like Medusa's snakes. 

Zoisite swore, taking a step backwards. "What the hell is this, Kunzite?" 

Kunzite had already picked up his blade and was striding towards the animated vines. "Allow me to demonstrate." As the first tendril lashed out at him, he turned and sliced it in two. He dodged as another one shot past him, then smoothly severed it as well. 

As he wove between the dancing tendrils, his blade flashing out to dismember them, he caught sight of Zoisite watching him from a distance, open-mouthed. He allowed himself a moment to enjoy the astonishment on the younger man's face, before he called out, "Zoisite, get over here!" 

"What?" 

"Come here. Now. This is a part of your training." As Zoisite hesitated, he added pleasantly, "You wouldn't want Beryl to think you were shirking your duties, would you?" 

Zoisite cursed him, but came forward anyway, his blade held firmly in his hand. At his approach, a number of tendrils veered towards him, and he swung at them savagely with his blade. Surprisingly, it seemed that Zoisite could be a vicious little fighter when he chose. 

While Zoisite was occupied, Kunzite managed to disengage from his own attackers and withdraw to the outskirts of the clearing. Only after a little while did Zoisite appear to notice that he was now fighting alone. 

"Hey! Where are you going?" 

Kunzite was strapping his sheathed blade to his belt, preparing to leave. "Where do you think I'm going?" 

"You can't just abandon me!" As Zoisite took a step towards him, a new wave of tendrils rose, separating the two men. 

"Is that so? I don't think you can stop me." 

Zoisite was looking at him in pure outrage. "You're really going to leave me here?" He jumped back as a tendril snaked towards him, and he lopped it off with his blade. 

Kunzite chuckled. "Think of it as real-life practice. In this profession, you're either good, or you're dead." 

"What are you going to tell Beryl when she asks what happened to me?" His challenging tone did not quite mask the underlying fear. 

_He thinks I'm leaving him here to die._ "Never fear, I'll be back for you in a couple of hours. I have a few things I need to take care of in the meantime." 

"What if I'm plant food in a few hours?" Zoisite demanded. He slashed at another tangle of blindly seeking tendrils. 

"Oh, don't worry," Kunzite said blandly. "These plants don't eat full-grown youma, just small animals. The tendrils may sting if they hit you, but the most they'll do is leave a rash. Which would be a shame, on your pretty white skin." 

While Zoisite stared at him, speechless, Kunzite decided to make good his exit. As he strode off, he wondered what had possessed him to use that last throwaway line. _'Pretty white skin' \- really, Kunzite. Since when did you pay attention to things like that?_


End file.
